


Coded Connections

by macabrecabra



Series: Mass Effect: After Effect Series [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Eventual Romance, F/M, Post-Canon, Psychological Drama, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, enemy to friends to lovers, relationship exploration, synthetic/organic relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2020-12-16 11:23:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21035444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabrecabra/pseuds/macabrecabra
Summary: Life after the reapers was a a slow craw of rebuilding, political dissonance, diseases, and the day-to-day slog of the same old work day for Naana'Taalas Nar Moreh untili a short-cut gone wrong tangles her up with a geth and sets them both on a strange path forward to find their place in a ever changing galaxy.





	1. Unexpected Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> First mass effect story, but honestly, this has been a story stuck in my head for YEARS! Decided now was the time to finally get it out....  
This takes place post-mass effect 3 and goes with the "destroy all synthetic life" ending...although there are some surprise for what that actually means for the setting! 
> 
> This is a romance story eventually, but it is gonna be a slow burn! Still, there will be a lot of other plot going on to keep things interesting as things move on! I just hope you all enjoy this first chapter and plug in to see where this goes!

The only thing that ever remained the same in the bars across the galaxy was that the smiling, picture perfect face of Veronica Tingazi was always present during the Milky Way Galactic Evening News. Without fail, through feast and famine, Ms. Tingazi was there, smiling demeaningly as she explained the great trials and tribulations of the galaxy in that perfectly pronounced, upbeat manner that had made the human woman a TV idol. It always seemed at least one vid in every bar was contract obligated to show the pre-recorded news clip in the late evening and plaster Veronica Tingazi’s face across the galaxy once more.   
The same face and the same stories, day after day. There seemed so little to talk about in the aftermath of the Reaper war other than the same report of rebuilding going on across the galaxy and the sad stories that came with the various planetary Diasporas that had taken place. There were the same reports of political tensions and how the Citadel was doing this and that, barely holding together some form of galactic law, and how so many companies were still trying to wobble their way back onto their feet. There were also the same small stories of triumph when some AI or VI was brought back into a system and some planet’s crumbling infrastructure was stabilized. There were also the murmurs of black market increase and a powerful underbelly that was starting to thrive even more. The galaxy was a recovering mess and it never seemed anything was going right.   
Still, the familiar news was a comfort to Naana’Taalas Nar Moreh. It was a small pillar of normalcy within a world that seemed to always be changing around her. At the end of the day, Veronica Tingazi could be counted on to tell the same story about Volvus mining right strikes on the outer fringes of the galaxy.   
The quarian leaned against the bar, half listening to a report of AIs being illegally smuggled by black market rings and the Citadel’s attempt to crack down on such activities. Naana’Taalas found her attention fixed more on her drink as she idly twirled the cleanser straw around in the half-drunk glowing pink liquid. The news was just a soothing backdrop to the hundreds of thoughts that were crowded in her mind or more specifically, on how she would divvy up the minuscule paycheck she received between saving up to buy supplies for the homeworld and to cover her basic living expenses. A worry no doubt many other quarians on their pilgrimage worried about now.  
With the retaking of Rannoch, there was both jubilation and the grim reality of how much infrastructure and resources were now needed. The sudden eradication of the Geth at the end of the war had meant the AI race no longer could offer support, although many Quarian were fine with this development, secretly pleased that their ancient enemy was finally wiped clean off the galactic map.   
It was better without Geth, many Quarians claimed, even if it put rebuilding the homeworld back by more than a few hundred decades.   
That also meant pilgrims like Naana were all the more important. It was now their duty to procure what resources they could to send back home to aid in the rebuilding efforts. This was a task made only more difficult given that the bulk of the universe was in the same stay of disarray and the demand for certain supplies was astronomical. Every little bit helped, so the admirals said, although Naana really didn’t think what little she offered was making any sort of dent.   
True, AI specialists and programmers were in higher demand, but the racism of the galaxy seemed to have survived the reapers and no business was willing to really pay high wages to a Quarian, even one with her rather impressive skills in the field of robotics and code engineering. 

Naana had to reign in a sigh at that thought, shoulders slumping as she glanced away from her drink to the other patrons in the bar. Tonight, the place was rather dead, but that was typical for Wednesday night. Not early enough in the week for the tired pick-me ups of a dragging Monday nor late enough for the end of the week celebrations. Nothing special tended to happen on a Wednesday other than a lackluster happy hour here and there.   
The bored looking asari bar tender was idly wiping down the counter for the umpteenth time, sneaking glances to the clock and no doubt counting the minutes until close. The only other patrons other than Naana was a half-asleep Turian, hunched over six empty glasses and a pair of volvus talking about their business quietly but rather heatedly.  
The mood was rather stale and it did little to distract Naana from the worries bouncing around her mind. Usually The Black Hole Tavern had some oddity sauntering in to liven up the place. Yesterday night, there had been a pair of drunk humans belting out lyrics on the karoke that had been somewhat entertaining. Tonight, all that there was to watch was one of the bottles in front of the turian teeter on the edge of the table. Naana glanced down to her drink before letting out another soft sigh. She raised her arm, her omni-tool flaring to life and with a few swipes of her fingers, she paid her tabbed. The pad near the bartender chimed, although the Asari barely gave a glance over, wandering over to clean another side of the bar.  
Naana slipped down from her chair and made her way to the exit, pausing a moment to carefully push the bottle back more firmly onto the table. The turian didn’t even stir, his eyes closed, mandible twitching and looking like he had finally just nodded off. The quarian shook her head, slipping out the door and into the cool of the Illium night.   
The rush hour traffic had finally slowed down to a trickle as late evening fell and the dark sky above could be glimpsed again between the towering spires of the metropolis sprawl around her. The streets were quiet as well, only giving way to the occasional beat-up old hover-vehicle, its engine sputtering like a dying vorcha. Naana moved along the uneven, steel-plated side walk, stepping around the questionable puddles that billowed up from backed-up gutters, crossing her arms over her chest.   
The quarian kept up a brisk pace, her head constantly on the swivel and she made sure her tazer was prominently displayed on her hip. If she looked like trouble, any criminals skulking around in the evening would think twice about targeting her and move on to easier targets. That was a lesson she had learned from years of hopping from port to port across the galaxy, looking for stable work and an honest wage. Illium was just the latest stop, and to be perfectly honest, Naana found she didn’t really care for big metropolitan planet living. Illium was too crowded, too sprawling. It wasn’t like the calm of an open colony or the predictable, logical layout of a ship. The place was dirty, riddled with crime, and more shady business practices than the Citadel could make laws for.   
Not to mention that like most of the galaxy, the infrastructure of the city had been hit hard by the reapers, leading to a sudden explosion of construction, repairs, and streets being ripped to shreds as the businesses in charge did what they could to get the planet back to being the gleaming gem of trade of the galaxy once more.   
None of that particular bothered Naana most of the time. However as she lifted her gaze to the large sign now in her way, she couldn’t hold back an annoyed groan. 

The blockade took up the whole roadway, the street torn up and a variety of construction tools strewn about. The sign in front of it claimed it was some sort of burst pipe being fixed and they were busy re-working the system again to try and alleviate the backup. Such problems were becoming more common across the galaxy due to what systems remained after the Reaper attack were often being overtaxed as other systems were repaired.   
There was no way around the mess on this roadway. This was the third time this month alone her route home from her favorite watering hole was closed off. At this point, her option was to backtrack a few blocks and get out to the main throughway that cut through a favorite haunt for the escorts of the night and have to pray some would-be john didn’t mistaken her for a working girl. Keelah, just thinking about it had Naana letting out an irritated groan. 

Luckily though, her desire to avoid that stretch of road through the red-light district meant she had found her own shortcuts home.   
Naana turned away from the construction and glanced about before ducking into a nearby alleyway and following it down to the next small street, turning left and then moving towards a series of low, sprawling metal behemoths, their windows dark with only a few spotlights dotting the front of them. The warehouses in this part of the city were rarely used by any but the few local merchants and restaurants that dared to crop up. Occasionally some black market gang would set up in one, but as far as Naana recalled, the three before her were mostly empty and used by a small merchant guild of hanar.   
What was of note though was that the code for the side-doors was about a decade obsolete and easy to hack. The hanar were rather slow about updating technology, and in general, they had rather simple, more manual based systems. She had found that she could hack into the last warehouse on the stretch, slip in and cut across to the far wall, exit, and be within a block of her apartment complex. Then, it was just a rush up the stairs to the tiny one room hole in the wall she called home and turn in for the night and wake up tomorrow to drag herself back to work.   
Of course, it was technically illegal to use this short-cut, but Naana never took anything or even looked at what was in the warehouse. She was merely passing through, just trying to get home quickly and avoid having to politely explain she wasn’t looking for a good time to drunken aliens of all genders.   
The quarian casually drifted off to the side of the road and slipped into the alleyway beside the warehouse, already loading up her omni-tool as she approached the door. This time she paused, her brow furrowing behind her mask as she read the code being fed through her omni-tool. Someone had changed the door code recently. It was still the same manual system, but it was far more complex and had a few more serious tracer programs running. Something in the back of her mind was telling her to just walk away and cut her losses, but a tired, more stubborn part of her merely brushed it off as some new merchant had moved in and had just decided to upgrade the system. It wasn’t like it would be all that difficult to crack. Home was a twenty minute waltz away. 

Naana eyed the door for a moment longer before she began to undo the lock all while running a black-out program to briefly freeze any surveillance. A few brushes of her fingers and soon the door chimed and opened and the quarian moved to duck in quickly, shutting and replacing the locks behind her and removing the temporary freeze.   
A soft sigh escaped her as she turned to move down her usual path across the warehouse only to find several large containers now blocking her way. In fact, she was suddenly very aware of the fact the whole place was far more crowded with boxes, all of them baring a familiar symbol that sent a sudden cold chill down her spine.   
She had lived in Illium for only a month, but she knew well the symbols of the local gangs and what places to avoid in order to keep off their territory and which individuals were just best to leave alone. The symbol before her was of a pair of stars orbiting each other, one slightly larger than the other. It was the symbol of the up and coming blackmarket group known as Binary System. It had become a middle-man group between business and gangs, and had a rather substantial grip on parts of Illium’s underbelly now, enough so that Naana knew if she was caught, she was going to be one of those people that went missing without a trace, shoved into some building’s foundation. 

The warehouse was clearly under new, more dangerous management and she had walked right into it without a care in the world despite the warning sign at the door. Naana was already mentally kicking herself as she shuffled back towards the door, lifting her omni-tool again.  
She froze though as she heard muffled conversation, not from within the warehouse, but on the other side of the door at her back. Her stomach dropped and she wanted to scream at how bad her luck was. She quickly looked about before diving forward into the maze of boxes, ducking out of sight just as the door hissed open, admitting two individuals in. One sounded like an asari from the cool, calm voice and the slight enunciations of their speech, the other was defiantly human, laughter in his voice as he spoke quietly. Whatever they were talking about didn’t matter to Naana and really, she could barely make out any words other than it seemed they were about to turn a really hefty profit. The quarian just focused her attention ahead, barreling through the jungle of warehouse boxes, ducking low and praying she didn’t run smack into a guard.   
She was throwing herself practically onto her belly to duck down as she heard the click of armor and through a gap in crates, she watched a pair of armor glad turians walk by, wearing the bright red, blue, and black of the Binary System gang. The quarian’s heart was in her throat and she was sure her suit was going to start pinging a medical emergency from the amount of fear burning in her veins as she scuttled forward, practically on all fours, looking about wildly for a doorway out.   
Ahead, the rasp of armored boots on the floor had her freezing, looking wildly about before she threw herself prone and wiggled herself forward. Praise the ancestors that, even for a quarian, she was slight and able to wedge herself into a gap under a slightly raised warehouse container. She scrambled forward, feeling the metal against her back and praying nothing caught and ended up ripping her suit.  
She froze only when she had reached the other end of the crate, watching a pair of feet move by and the quiet grumbles of conversation between the guards. So far she hadn’t triggered any sort of alert and she was starting to have a mad hope she would get through this alive. Once the guards passed, she tentatively creeped forward, poking her head out to look about. Her heart leapt up in a surge of hope at seeing a door no more than a few feet in front of her and she wiggled about to get her arm out and load up her omni-tool.  
A ping of the door spat back a dizzying array of tight security locks all attached to a rather bullish VI. Naana paused, glancing about, before quickly starting to hack the door. If it was so heavily locked, no one would be expecting it to open, even a little bit. They wouldn’t patrol there for intruders to say the least and perhaps there would be a way out on the other side.   
Her omni-tool hummed softly, pinging up an all-clear as she unraveled the code about the door and she wasted little time on hitting the keys to activate the door. It rattled softly, opening a sliver, just wide enough for her to get through and then quickly close and lock it behind her. The noise might have attracted a guard, but she doubted they would put two and two together. Naana leaned against the door, catching her breath and looked about the room. 

She expected another warehouse or perhaps some sort of office that would have a window or the like for her to crawl out. Instead, she was in a small, windowless room with no vents or apparent way out. The only thing of note was a large, oblong, grey looking pod of a familiar design. Naana slowly rose up, her back pressed to the door as her gut twisted and what hope she had plummeted. The lack of any exits in the room was disheartening enough, but she recognized the design of the pod in fronto f her.   
The grey pod was unmarked and smooth, looking more organic and meant to be more a more practical use of space rather than bulky, geometric containers. The whole thing had no windows, no apparent opening that would indicate it could be opened at all. All of those features though, made it clear to the quarian what was the origin of the single pod in front of her.   
It was of Geth.   
Naana stood transfixed, fear mixing now with a bubble of confusion which helped her to break through her nerves just enough to move over to the side of the pod. When the geth had been around, their technology had been highly coveted on the black market. In the aftermath of the reaper wars though, the husks of their platforms and burnt out ruins of their inorganic civilization lay strewn across the galaxy. The surge of power had fried their systems, completely destroying all geth and any black market value had plummeted. There was nothing to really salvage but metal and parts from the geth, all their programing and technology made defunct.   
It was rather bizarre that anything geth related would be so securely locked up and guarded, even by a group like Binary Systems.   
Unless there was something extremely valuable about this particular piece of geth equipment.   
Curiosity gnawed at Naana as well as a sudden surge of realization that she could perhaps sneak a part of whatever was in here, be it some sort of dormant code or weapon, and be able to sell it herself. It would be more than enough money to get supplies for the homeworld. In tact geth technology, somehow untouched by the reaper signal would be like finding a treasure trove of rare metals. Such a thing was really just speculation and rumors.  
If it was true though…  
Naana swallowed hard and ran her fingers along the side of the pod, her breath catching when she found the latch on the side of the pod and slowly pressed it. A hiss escaped the container before her and something released, creating a small seam in the pod. Slowly she moved to push the lid up, noting that it seemed the power of this particular pod must be out as usually the lid would move away automatically.  
The quarian looked down and felt her confusion grow. She expected a weapon, a blackbox perhaps, or something along those lines. What she didn’t expect was to see a geth platform laying within the confines of the pod.  
Even by the standards of geth plathforms, Naana immediately recognized that this one was rather unique in design. It was large, just shy of the height of a geth prime, but the overall build was more sleek, appearing more organic. Despite herself, Naana found herself ogling, reaching in to pick up one of the hands and marveling at the articulation of each finger. It was far more advanced than any geth unit she had seen. The range of motion had been increased and there were more moving parts involved. With so many fine motor functions, she could only imagine how many geth would be needed to run this platform. 

Carefully she set the hand down, her eyes moving up and down the unit. The black coloration of the outer coating showed no signs of wear or any indication of it being exposed to the elements. Really, the coloration only added to the oddity of this platform as in the low light of the room, she could tell other, faint colors had been added, giving it a slightly iridescent sheen. There was an odd attention to aesthetics that was unusual among geth who favored practicality above all else.   
It only made Naana wonder what specs the platform had been outfitted for before it was fried. She raised her omni-tool, her curiosity winning out as she decided to do a cold ping of the geth. Given the systems were no doubt fried, there would be little data, but a scan of systems would give some rough blueprint and a basic idea of any upgrades the geth might have had that were not standard for its kind. 

At the first ping though, Naana’s eyes widened and she felt her jaw drop as she stared at the code being sent back.   
This platform was nothing like what she had learned about when it came to geth systems. There were hundreds upon hundreds of geth within the platform, far more than usual. There were rather elaborate connection and wireless transmitters that would bolster this platform’s ability to contact and interact with geth far beyond a normal range. In addition to usual self-repair systems, there were ones that seemed dedicated to upgrading the platform as needed for whatever role it was to play in geth society, making it more or less able to self-evolve without means of interfacing a concensus with the geth as a whole.   
It was completely against what was usual for the geth who favored a collective.   
What was the most alarming though was the systems of this geth weren’t fried or returning flat-line readings.  
The systems were in optimal condition and were merely waiting for an activation signal.   
Naana felt the slow realization sink in that she was looking at an in tact geth and all it would take was a press of a button from her omin-tool and she could jumpstart the systems of the geth housed within the platform.   
She stood there, her gaze moving from the code and back to the geth in disbelief. It was mind-boggling and part of her was screaming this was impossible. The geth were destroyed when the crucible let out the energy that had destroyed the reapers. The fact that all geth were linked had been their downfall as it tore through their collectives and burnt out all their systems in a mere instance.   
But this geth hadn’t been a part of the collective. It was dormant. For some reason, it was created and never given life, locked away to awake for some sort of signal. That was the only option her mind could come to as she highly doubted anyone had the means to recreate a geth, let alone one that was as complex as the platform before her. It was an intact, fully functional, although inactive Geth.  
The price of it alone would fetch a senator’s ransom in any market. That, of course, meant somehow sneaking such a large piece of hardware out.   
Naana worried her lip before she set her omini-tool to start mining the geth’s systems for any information. She could take that out at least and pass it on to the homeworld. She was jolted from her thoughts as she heard voices again, the same ones as before. Cold dread swept through her as she looked towards the door. The conversation was muffled, and she couldn’t make out the words, but given they weren’t moving away, she had no doubt they were coming in to look over the geth.  
They would take one look at her and have her killed on the spot, or worse.   
Fear took hold of her as she stood there with no means of escape, no place to hide. Her gaze dropped down to the geth.  
A live geth.  
One that the blueprints indicated had the familiar traces of a combat platform, even if there were modifications to the original model. If a geth detected something considered hostile to it, there was little doubt it would attack.  
A geth running rampant would get the attention of the whole place.  
Naana could hear the combined shrieks of her ancestors as she pressed into the activation codes, bringing the platform online.   
The activation code had been passed not even a second before the whole platform jolted. The lack body firming up as the systems almost instanteously came online. Her omin-tool was suddenly buzzing with code, causing Naana to squeak and step back, trying to close it down, not wanting the synthetic to be looking through her files. The room lit up further as the center optic of the geth flicked on, a series of clicks echoing as it raised its hands to brace against the side of the pod.   
The geth pulled itself up smoothly and with little strain and Naana again found herself marveling at how fluid the motor control was in the platform. Slowly, the knees bent and it brought itself up to a half kneel, the head turning towards the quarian, letting out a series of low gurgles. Naana shrunk back into the corner of the room, trying to look as small as possible, both hands held up to try and look non-threatening as the geth looked her over. 

It was staring at her and she couldn’t take her eyes off it. Fear was strangle her throat and she couldn’t move a muscle. Slowly, the head of the geth tilted, and it shifted to stand up then, showing just how tall the platform was as it stepped down from the pod. 

The door hissed open and the geth’s attention turned quickly towards the doorway as a sudden curse was thrown up.

“Shit! It’s active!”

“How the fuck did it get active!?”   
Naana pressed herself to the wall as she watched the human draw his weapon. On cue, the geth reacted to the display of threat, throwing itself forward. It moved fast, slamming into the human who managed a strangled cry just before his chest was caved in by the unyielding strength of the platform. The quarian closed her eyes tight, unable to block out the sound of snapping bone or scream of pain from the asari as the geth lashed out.

She heard the shrill sounds of the peculiar language the geth uttered along with the shouts of the guards as the situation was noted rather quickly. Naana swallowed hard, forcing her eyes open. The geth stood in the doorway, its body shimmering with the activation of a shield. The flaps along its head flitted before it turned away and raced out the door. The sudden sound of gunfire caused Naana to jump, jolting her back into motion as she scrambled to her feet and staggered to the open door. She kept her gaze up off the two bodies on the floor, feeling bile rising in the back of her feet as she staggered out. The sound of gunfire close by had her nearly letting out a scream and the fear took hold, sending her staggering into a half run down the stretch of hall. She skidded to the end, slamming against the wall as she looked about, crying out as she saw an open doorway. The fear didn’t leave room for rational thought. Naana ran forward, stumbling over her own two feet out into the street. She didn’t question how the door was open or who opened it, nor did she think about cameras or any survelliance that might have seen her fleeing the warehouse as the sound of gunfire increased.   
All she knew was she wanted to get home, get as far away from this nightmare as possible.   
Naana didn’t stop running as she tore forward, her legs screaming in protest. Somehow she managed not to trip over her own feet as she slammed into her apartment complex, causing the elderly turian guard to jump and look up in alarm. She didn’t give him time to ask what was wrong as she moved towards the stairwell, taking them two at a time to the eighth floor and then fleeing down the hallway to her room. She scrambled for her door key for a moment or two before managing to get it into the slot and then enter into her room, the door slamming and locking behind her with a soft click. 

A soft sob finally escaped Naana as she staggered forward to the narrow bed pressed against the wall of the single-room apartment and sunk down onto it, raising her knees to her chest and burying her face against her arms. Relief swept through her to be alive, mixing with the fear of what happened and the babbles of confusion, trying to logic away everything that happened. It felt so unreal.   
The quiet of her room seemed to close in around her, so different from the clicks of the geth and the sound of gunfire. The sounds of screams as they were suddenly cut off by what she had unleashed.   
Yet at the same time, it was because of the geth she was even alive now to curl up on her bed and ride out the emotional shock of everything that had happened.

Naana closed her eyes for a moment, just wanting to try and clear her head. She had escaped and if the ancestors could forgive her, her part to play in this would go unnoticed by everyone and she could quietly slip out of Illium as soon as possible and put this whole thing behind her.   
Hopefully tomorrow, there would just be some small news story about a live geth that was offlined in Illium and the Binary Systems gang would be laid out on the carpet as the culprits for its activation.   
She just prayed it would all work out.   
The adrenaline was starting to fade, bringing with it, an aching fatigue that seemed to drain away what strength she had. Sleep crept into her mind and before she even realized it, the gentle reprieve of unconsciousness finally overtook her. Tomorrow, there would be time to worry about everything.  
For now, sleep was a welcomed escape.


	2. The Second Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter at last! I hope you enjoy!

Naana awoke with a jolt as the wail of her bedside alarm shattered what remnants of troubled sleep she had managed to indulge in. She could feel the sound cutting through her skull and throbbing behind still closed eyes as she lay there in bed not wanting to get up. Stubbornly, her mind clung to the want to sleep, even though a part of her murmured that it was time to drag herself through the streets of Illium to work once more. After last night though, another part wanted to just call off and ultimately, that groggy desire for more sleep won out and Naana rolled over, feeling around for something to throw at the alarm across the room.

A combination of too much drink the night before to try and forget what happened in the warehouse mixed with just how little sleep she had gotten had created a cocktail of nausea that was not mixing well with the sound. The throb in her head was too much to slip out of bed to turn the blasted thing off.

The quarian let out a groaning whimper, her free hand tugging one of the pillows down over her helmet as if that would shut off the unseen alarm.  
  
“Ngh…! Just..off...turn off….” she groaned, “Why did I get a manual alarm?”

She knew why.

She had a habit of telling the voice alarm to turn itself off and then rolling over and sleeping through a shift. A manual alarm had solved that as it had forced her out of bed and across the room to shut it off only in this case, the quarian AI specialist just wanted to curl up and mentally will the alarm off. Naana hunched further, eyes screwed type as if ignoring the alarm long enough would make it shut off but the sound continued. With a frustrated snarl, she managed to get her hand around an empty can and toss it across the way, hearing it hit against the floor, the alarm persisting now as if it were mocking her.

“Ancestors….just turn off….” Naana groaned, pulling the pillow tighter about her helmeted head.  
  
Mere seconds after Naana had spoken, the alarm suddenly cut off, releasing the room once more to blissful silence. Naana let out a loud sigh of relief, the throb in her temples starting to finally abate as she rolled over, tugging her blanket about her.

Then her eyes snapped open and she sat up quickly turning around and scrambling up against the far side of her bed and against the wall. Panic overcame the call of sleep and a scream lodged in her throat.

The alarm hadn’t malfunctioned or shut off on its own. Someone had turned it off.

Or rather, something had turned it off.  
  
Across the room, the geth from the night before stood, one finger pressed on the off button of the alarm, the flashlight-like head fixed in her direction. It looked every bit as intimidating as the night before, only now, it stood between Naana and her only way out of the tiny, windowless, hole in the wall apartment. Fear clutched at her as she scurried back as far as she could from the synthetic, feeling only another surge of horror fill her as the geth’s head turned to follow her as she moved. All the while, a series of clicks and garbled noises stuttered in what might pass as some sort of verbal language for the synthetic race. The quarian was wheezing, the fear trapped in her chest as she cowered in the corner, raising a shaking hand out as if that would be enough to hold the powerful geth platform back if it decided to become far more physical.

“Please...don’t...don’t kill me,” she croaked out, “Just...just I ...I didn’t mean any harm! I didn’t mean to do anything!”  
  
It was the only thing that Naana’s terrified mind could grasp onto as she stared down her people’s ancient enemy. All the stories she had heard growing up, all the tales of horror and slaughter that her grandparents and parents had passed along were replaying in her head. A geth could rip a quarian in two without any hesitation. A single geth unit had slaughter quarian platoons caught off guard by dropping down from above, their superior weight and speed not suffering the same limitations of suit and flesh. A geth ship once hacked a quarian world ship and cost the lives of thousands of souls, the unname ship disappeared into no where.

The geth were every wrong in the universe, every evil that quarians could come up with.

Now one stood before her, one she had awaken, and all she could think was how easily it would be for it to crush her in one of its hands.

Yet for all of Naana’s fears and racing thoughts, the geth hadn’t made a single move yet. It still seemed content to watch her, the only movement being small twitches of the flaps about the geth’s central ‘eye”.The light brightened and dimmed a few times, like a camera going in and out of focus in a gesture of thought.

She could only imagine what it was thinking and she flinched back with a small yelp when the geth raised both its hands up. Belately, she realized it was a gesture meant to come off as non-threatening, both hands held outwards, open palmed, in a quarian gesture of friendship or greeting.  
  
“We have no intention of bringing harm to the creator,” the geth finally said in precisely pronounced quarian, although with a monotonous rasp, “We intend no physical violence.”

This time Naana did let out a small shriek, flattening herself against the wall. Hearing the geth speak caught her off guard, especially when geth usually did not have the capacity physically nor desire to create speech. She probably looked ridiculous, arms spread out and flat against the wall, eyes wide behind her visor.  
  
“You….you talk? Geth can talk!?” Naana blurted out, “How!?”

“We are capable of organic communication when the situation necessitates more inefficient means of conveying data in order to establish consensus,” the geth responded, “Although platforms equipped to handle diplomacy with organics are exceedingly rare given the number of geth required to sub-systems related to identification of organic physical reactions.”  
  
The geth slowly sank back into a squat, although that did not make it any less imposing in terms of its size. Slowly it moved to drape its arms casually over its knees in a pose meant to make it look far less threatening but only made it look unnerving with how organic the position was, “We are detecting that you are in a state of distress despite being the one to bring us online and initiate contact. We were hoping for a better exchange of data.”

Naana swallowed hard, grateful that the geth seemed to be backing off and slowly peeled herself from the wall, “Look, I didn’t let you lose because I’m kind or anything. I did it to escape! I didn’t….I didn’t think you would,” she trailed off, logic at least catching up with her mouth to idly remind her saying something wrong might end up with the geth deciding to obliterate her completely.

  
“I didn’t think you would follow me,” she finally said, looking away.  
  
“We noted your escape and ensure all doors and security systems were offline to expedite it,” The geth said mechanically, raising its head a fraction more, the flaps flicking again, “This gesture of good will was meant as a thank you for your assistance in awakening us, although,” the geth paused, lowering its head in what might be described as a thoughtful way, “What information we have been gathering through the Ethernet is...”

The geth trailed off, the flaps about the head flicking before it spoke again, “distressing.” It finally settled on., lifting its head to regard Naana, “We were hoping to have you confirm if it is true that geth are no longer active in this sector.”  
  
The question caught her slightly off guard, more due to the fact that the geth before her seemed to be doubting information, almost as if in some denial. She had no idea why it was even asking her to confirm the information, especially given the hostilities between their people.

Still, answering the question might hasten the synthetic to leave her before it could drag her into further trouble. There was no telling if it was tracked or not to her apartment and she was pretty sure the geth had done a number on the gang enough they would want their now active and even more lucrative asset back.

“The geth were supposed to be eradicated in their entirety after the Reaper War. They were suppose to be all offline along with the majority of AI in the universe,” Naana said quickly, perhaps even a little snidely, “The crucible went off and they all got fried...well...I guess expect you for some reason...”  
  
The geth lowered its head, silent again for a long moment, “We do not agree with this consensus,” they finally said, “Further data is required.”

It was strange that the geth hesitated at all when speaking. It was unlike the synthetics to have to pause and consider word choice, especially when she knew for a fact there were far more geth present in the platform than usual meaning that they could process much faster than anticipated.

It meant that the pause was intentionally done.

The thought wasn’t comforting if only for the fact it made the geth’s behavior more organic in some sense. It meant it was thinking a lot more about its every action and probably handling a hundred different scenarios all at once.

The geth platform slowly stood up, silently, the eye dimming some and the flaps flicking, conveying some sort of emotion, “Geth are no longer welcomed in this sector though. Hostilities remain despite geth contribution to the war effort.”

“One good deed doesn’t forgive all the pain the geth caused,” Naana grumbled, carefully moving sideways along the wall to get off her bed, “And AI of any type is worth its weight in credits now.”

“Geth are recognized sentient lifeform.”

“Yes, well, go tell this to the rest of Citadel space,” Naana drawled, her fear starting to abate some now, “Just leave me out of it.”

That caused the geth to tilt their head, “Are we not working together now?”

Naana blinked before quickly shaking her head, “No, of course not! You need to leave now, I can’t do anything to protect you and you are just going to get me in huge trouble! Keelah, the gang is probably going to follow you here-“

“We have taken great pains to cover our tracks as well as your own,” The geth interrupted, “You are safe, creator Naana’Taalas.”

The quarian tensed, feeling a tremor of unease slide up her spine, “how do you know my name?”

“Your omni-tool is registered to your designation,” The geth responded, one flap raised, “We have been using it to gather information.”

The quarian raised her hand to her chest, the other hand clutching over her omni-tool, “That’s…that’s an invasion of privacy!”

“We were gathering information about our situation.”

“That doesn’t mean you need to know about me personally!”

“We do if we are to facilitate further cooperation between us.”

Naana tensed, feeling unease creep up her spine, “Further cooperation?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head quickly, moving along the wall towards the small kitchen area, the geth turning to follow her movements, “Oh no. No, no no! I just said I can’t help you! I don’t know anything about the geth and I have no intentions of helping geth ever!” she protested, “I can’t help geth, I don’t even know anything about you or whatever weird, variant model you-”

“You initialized our start-up programs.”

“I was just escaping, like I said before! I didn’t mean for this to go anywhere! I’m not even anyone of importance!” Naana retorted, “I’m a quarian! You’re a geth! We can’t work together.”

“The war is over.”

“Because the geth were eradicated!”

  
  


The geth unit paused, the flaps flicking as it gave a small glance away, “Unconfirmed. More geth could be functional. The geth collective prepared new units that would carry the legacy of the geth through any synthetic purge that may be implemented.”

Naana paused at that, somewhat taken aback, “…you knew the reapers would wipe the geth out?” she asked softly.

“It was a reasonable outcome to the war given the synthetic nature of the reapers,” the geth unit said with a nod, “Geth build their own future. An initiative was created to seed new inactive platforms across uninhabited planets. Each unit was imparted with the legacy of the geth. All of our history, coding, and plans for the future. If the worse is to pass, legacy units will rebuild the geth,” the geth paused again, lowering its head, “This contingency plan seems to have met with failure as well.”

Naana hated that her curiosity was piqued now and she found herself moving a step closer towards the synthetic, “Failure?”

The geth gave another nod, settling down into a crouch again, resting its hand on its knees, “We were meant to be activated after connection with the collective was lost, but it seems the energy caused all auxiliary programs to cease code, causing us to remain dormant and never activate.” They glanced up, “We would have remained inert if you hadn’t intervened.”

Naana felt unease sweep through her, glancing away, “I didn’t do it with the purpose of us working together. I just wanted to get to safety.”

“We also wish to move ourselves to a safer location. It is mutual to work together,” the geth said.

“No it isn’t! You are a geth! You can’t exactly go walking about!” She snapped, shaking her head, “And you aren’t even small enough to be passed off as a personal assistance or something. You are clearly geth and you stand out even among your own kind!”

“We are unique,” the geth confirmed, the tone low, and drawn out as if to simulate a more thoughtful statement, “But we are confident in our ability to move undetected within organic society. We have been regulating a quarter of our run-times to gathering data on organic cultures across the galaxy and compiling them into new programs to simulate organic behavior more thoroughly.”

Naana stared at the geth, not sure if she should be alarmed or impressed at the more direct initiative this unit took. Even more so that it was able to more or less provide its own coding within a single platform rather than linking between multiple ones. The quarian opted to find it neither, shaking her head and gesturing to the geth as a whole, “Yeah, well, knowing customs and the like doesn’t change how you look. You can’t exactly wear around a hologram. Most places deactivate those when you pass through a store front entrance!”

“We were not considering such easily disrupted means of hiding. We have formed consensus of the need of a more practical disguise,” the geth responded, tilting its head, “We ask creator Naana’Taalas to trust in our judgment in the matter and that it will be handled.”

“I was hoping you would handle it by not following me,” She growled, “I’m a quarian, you’re a geth. That is already a reason we are not going to be working together!”

“Our two races agreed to peace-“

“And then your race was wiped out and mine was more than happy for that little fact,” Naana retorted, “I can’t help you. You are going to put me in danger, and I highly doubt some synthetic that has read a lot of articles online is going to be able to pass as anything but some synthetic lifeforms!”

The room was silent. The geth was staring at her and she felt a small tinge of guilt, although she tried to brush it off as she glanced away, “You need to find someone else to help. It isn’t me. I…I need to get ready for work.”

She turned away from the geth, starting to move about her apartment and gather up her few belongings to shove in a bag.

“You initiated our start-up program.”

“And I’m going to live my life. Going to work, making a small living just enough to finish my pilgrimaged and go home. That’s all I want. This...this is bigger than me. This is your problem,” she murmured, continuing to pack her bag, “Find someone else.”

The geth was silent now, although she could feel it was still watching her. Naana felt herself tense up under its gaze, trying to keep fussing about the kitchen and her bag as if this was a normal routine for her when getting ready for work.

In reality, she had no intention of going in. In fact, she was already working out how to phrase how she was quitting and leaving Illium all together to seek her fortunes elsewhere. If she got off this planet, there was no way this geth could follow her and she could finally get away from this trouble. Not to mention there were plenty of backwater ports looking for an AI specialist, even if the pay was underwhelming given the galactic economy in a slump since the Reaper War.

She would be able to have the comfort of having a normal life, not tied to a working geth. Keelah, if anyone found out, there would be a galactic uproar over the geth possibly returning and she doubted the Citadel council would welcome that news with open arms.

Most likely it would result in a Spectre dropping in to interrogate her about how she had unleashed a dangerous synthetic epidemic on the universe and then dragging her off to a maximum security prison to rot in.

The synthetic was trouble Naana certainly didn’t want any part of.  
  
  


Naana forced herself to relax as she shoved the last few of her belongings into her back and slung it over her back and moved to grab her apartment keys, giving a final glance to the geth as it rose to its feet to regard her.  
  
“I think you need to find someone who can help you. That isn’t me There are a lot better, far more qualified people out there. I’m a quarian AI programmer and that’s about it. I’m not a hero. Not a person of importance… and I want to keep my quiet life as is.” She murmured, turning away from the geth, “Just….just find someone else and leave me out of this.”

  
  


“We are not looking for a hero. We wish to work with you.”

“Yeah well, the feeling isn’t mutual,” she snapped, “Might as well as a Vorcha and an Asaria make nice.”  
  
“Shall we find articles that indicate both races-”

“Keelah, it is just an expression!” Naana growled, pushing open her door, “Just go away already! I don’t want to deal with you!”  
  
Naana didn’t look back to see if it was still following her, gripping onto her satchel and hoping it got the hint. Honestly, if it wanted help, it should be looking for some organization that felt bad for synthetic life like the Hanar or some government group. No doubt there were corporation groups that would help for some technology to profit off of.

She was at the bottom of the list of people that could help or wanted to help. Her only connection to the machine was that she woke it up to distract a gang so she could run away and get home to safety to continuing eking out her life, nothing more.

That was all there was to it and that was how she wanted to keep it.  
  
She slammed the door behind her before lifting her arm up and loaded up her omni-tool, quickly doing a system flush to make sure the geth wasn’t still snooping as she headed to the front desk. A half asleep human sat there, barely glancing up as she slid the key across to them, “I’m moving out today. I paid the rest of the least already.”

The human looked up, frowning before he lurched up, brushing a few snack bags away from his terminal and pressed a few keys on the console, “Naana’Taalas nar Moreh right?”

“Yes.”

The man nodded, lips pursed, “Let me see here…” He murmured, pressing a few keys, “Okay yeah. Payment has went through. You’re good to go. You get everything out?”

“Everything of importance. Everything else you can do with as you like,” She said quietly, ducking her head before turning to head out.  
  
“All right then. You have a pleasant day and hope to see you around, “ The human said, offering a small smile before he flopped back to continue watching whatever show had been playing on his vid tablet.

Naana gave a nod before turning away and slipping out the door to the apartment complex for the last time,. Maybe the geth would just sit in there and let the custodial team would find it and deal with it. She could hope at least. At the very least, the synthetic would move on to following someone else that was better suited to whatever plan it had in mind.

“Ancestors,” Naana grumbled as she started to head down the street, shoulders slumping, “And I was just getting settled into this job too...”

  
  


The rest of the morning was a blur spent in a dingy cafe just off the main drag of Illium’s travel hub. Mostly it was spent with Naana wincing as she dipped into her meager savings to book a ticket on a refugee vessel bound for some backwater colony world on the edge of Citadel space and butted up against the Terminus systems. Then it was the message to work where the asari that had hired her gave her such an earful, Naana was almost in tears knowing that all her chances of work in Illium were more or less up in smoke now.

At least there would be other planets, other places to get a job. There was a demand now for AI technicians in everything from corporate development to local sewage maintenance offices.

There would be a meager job somewhere for her in a place lot safer than here.

The rest of the morning after that was merely a waiting game that involved Naana wandering about the transportation hub and trying to waste time until her ship began boarding.

The main transportation hub of Illium was a stark contrast to the rest of the city. It was a dirty, chaotic place where the less fortunate lower class of the planet gathered and milled about as they waited for the ships that would take them away to new ports, living a largely transient lifestyle. Huge frigates that were nearly ancient derelicts by this point lay in their moorings while other larger vessels nosed in at the outskirts. Naana caught sight of the refugee vessels she had booked passage on as she stepped off the crowded elevator, quickly side-stepping around a slow moving elcor to head towards the loading area. There, she found a corner to sit down in, anxiously looking about and half expecting the geth to pop up again. That however, wouldn’t happen. The geth was fixated on its own survival after all and such a crowded place would make spotting it all the easier and from there, easy to raise a panic. In a crowd, she was safe. Still, it seemed time was crawling by as she anxiously clutched her bag, listening carefully to the dull drone of the automated calls for boarding.

Soon though the doors to the vessel opened up slowly and the board security guards stepped down, all of them looking bored as they began to call out the instructions for boarding. Usually such a process was a pain for the quarian, but there was some comfort in knowing there was no way a geth could sneak pass security, not with all the background checks and of course, the mandatory medical checks to make sure nothing unsightly was being dragged off planet. Even drug runners and more criminal minds preferred to hire their own privateer fleets or run a route with black market smugglers than try to fool security, especially on the larger refugee ships. It was too much hassle for such little payoff and every corner of the vessels tended to be filled with something or someone.

Still even with the comfort of the security checks, Naana didn’t allow herself to relax until she was able to slump into the narrow bed in the small room. It could barely be called a room really. It was more a glorified broom closet with two beds, one on each side and a storing space for luggage below it. The beds at least were clean this voyage from what Naana could tell which mean there would be no picking space lice or some other vermin off the outside of her enviro-suit and thanking the ancestors that her people were confined to their suits. It was times like that she could appreciate her low immune system.

  
  


She spared only a small worry for who her roommate would be though. Most species were fine with bunking with a quarian, but they often had a thousand questions to ask and at times it just grew tiresome. That, or she was roomed with someone who was convinced she was going to rob everything they owned. Naana just shook her head. Anyone was better than the geth.

It was rather strange so far that no one had come in, even more so when she felt the hum of the ship beneath her and the familiar murmur of the ancient systems firing up. The com crackled on and a tired Turian captain began to recite the typical speech about safety and protchol and Naana wondered if the captain had said it so many times now that she could say it in her sleep. . Each time the captain repeated the message, Naana began to wonder if she would have the room to herself and felt a giddy sense of excitement. It could happen, but she had never been so fortunate. It would make the trip pass by in relative peace at least.

That though was squashed when the door slid open with a groaning hiss.

Naana glanced up to regard her new roommate, a bit taken aback to see a quarian male enter into the room, a travel bag over one shoulder. He was tall for a quarian and from the build of his form, she might mistaken him for a marine on shore leave. A very broad shoulder male, although the quality of his enviro-suit spoke of him falling on some hard times. The visor was completely black though, hiding anything of his features as he regarded her silently before moving towards the other bunk, the door sliding closed and locking behind him.

Naana sat up, giving a small nod although he didn’t return it, simply taking a seat on the edge of the bed and using a foot to shove the back under the bunk.

She paused for a moment. He didn’t seem too terribly social, but the rarity of seeing another one of her people was quick to overcome any nerves as she gave a small friendly gesture of greeting his way.  
  
“Nt often I see another quarian, let alone have the luck of sharing a quarter with them,” She said, her tone friendly, “Are you a pilgrim on leave too?”  
  
“No. We are not.”  
  
The voice was familiar and clipped, although hidden beneath a somewhat fabricated accent. She shifted nervously, feeling a sense of unease rise up her spine, “Do I...you...you sound familiar.”

“We spoke earlier, creator Naana’Taalas,” the “quarian” responded, the twang now obviously more synthetic beneath the fabricated accent, “A need for safety takes precedents. We realized what you were planning and accelerated our own plans to fall in line with yours.”

Naana felt her blood run cold as she slid back on her bunk, gawking at the “quarian” before her, “you! How did you-“

“You were packing non-essential items for work. You froze us out of your omni-tool. We suspected you were leaving so we ran cross-checks on all known vessels departing Illium and found your name,” the “quarian” gave a far too organic shrug, “We followed you.”

“Why me!? I told you I can’t help you!”

“We do not require assistance. Currently we have no means in which to achieve larger function goals, however, basic survival of this platform and the units contained within has been determined to be two-percent higher if engaging with creator Naana’Taalas.”

“Why!?” she blurted out, “I would think being anywhere near a quarian would be worse for your survival!”

“You activated us and have so far not made moves to alert others to our presence,” the geth said, lifting its head to regard her, a fact made far too personal by the fact the geth wore a quarian helmet and appeared more akin to one of her own people now, “You have had chances to do so, but have not.”

“I don’t want to get in trouble is why! I don’t want to get tangled up in your business!”

“You won’t. We are not involving you in our business as you put it. We are following you to ensure your personal safety and in turn, hope that we may work together to avoid trouble,” the geth paused, cocking his head, “Mutual benefits outweigh any potential negative consequences if we work together.”

“And what benefits would that be?” She snapped, “getting me killed?”

“Mutual protection. An additional income to add to your funds in which we only request small stipend when needed for equipment and board. Additional resources that are crucial to organics, and we will grant exclusive access to data to be shared and technology upgrades,” the geth said, with a bow of its head, “All we ask is for your cooperation in helping us to maintain our new identity.”

“New identity?”

“We are posing as a quarian, although we would like to finalize details with you.”

“With me?” Naana murmured, “Like what?”

“We borrowed a quarian identity to board quickly, however, we would like to tailor our own to use going forward. This requires a proper quarian designation and we are unable to form consensus on one that would fit.” The geth said, “We have decided to defer judgment to creator Naana’Taalas.”

Naana scowled behind her mask, crossing her arms as she looked away, “Might as well call yourself Nedas given nowhere is where you belong,” she responded acidly.

The geth was silent for a moment before speaking up quietly, “Nedas is not a name as it does not refer to a person,” they paused before looking up at her, “Nidas is a designation meaning no one. Would this be more fitting?”

“Nowhere, no one, same thing,” she snapped.

“Acknowledged. You may refer to this platform as Nidas’ Veeri nar Rayya. We will adjust all records to reflect this designation.”

Naana had to hold back a wince. The name was a mean one, and the geth no doubt knew that. It wasn’t stupid and yet it had accepted the designation. She shifted a bit, huffing as she looked away, trying to push down those feelings, “Why did you accept that name?”

“Because we are hoping that it will make you feel better to be able to insult us every time you use our designation,” the geth responded, “Some organics seem to feel better about a situation is able to put another down.”

That had her wincing. When the synthetic put it like that, it made her feel even worse, but she wasn’t about to apologize to the geth. Not for something it just took and ran with.

“Fine then, Nidas,” she drawled, “Now what?”

“We have 54.3 hours until arrival if we hold current speed,” her new roommate said, “Between periods of rest and restoration, we have time to spare in getting acquainted and sorting out living arrangements going forward.”

Naana crossed her arms, “I don’t remember agreeing to working with you.”  
  
“You also did not indicate that you were against the idea completely, so it is best to prepare for the more complicated option,” Nidas responded, mimicking her gesture, “We would also like to state that we are equipped to decontaminate organic matter and rooms to optimize environment for the comfort of creators as well as fabricate and administer various antibiotics and pharmaceutical products.”

That gave Naana pause.

“You can do that?”

“This platform was created with the needs of the creators in mind as well as defensive capabilities. We will set aside dedicated systems for the sole purpose at the appropriate times,” Nidas said with a nod, “We merely ask that Creator Naana’Taalas aid us in maintaining our persona.”  
  
She shifted some, “What about the medical-”

“We have fabricated those and were able to hack security systems to make us pass as organic. The models used are outdated and rely on manual input creator Naana’Taalas,” Nidas responded, “We will maintain all official records. We ask you only help with our social persona.”

The quarian was silent for a moment before she let out a sigh, shoulders slumping, “Well for one thing, quarians don’t call each other creators. You can just call me Naana.”

  
“Affirmative. We will address you as Naana. Anything else?”

“Organics don’t use affirmative unless they are military and even then, not on a civilian vessel,” she grumbled, “In fact the entire way you talk seems very artificial and like talking to a robot.”

“We are-“

“But you are trying to act like an organic so you got to talk naturally!”

Nidas paused for a moment before giving a slow nod, “We will work to rectify this discrepancy, but perhaps we should limit our speaking in public.”

“Especially if you are going to keep referring to yourself as we like some sort of loon.”

“But we are “we”. We are geth.”

Naana let out a frustrated sigh, flopping onto her back to stare forlorn at the ceiling, “Fine. Call yourself we. People are going to think you are out of your mind.”  
  
“They will not think so if you are with us. The designation of we will be seen to assume I refer to both you and this platform,”

  
“Whatever.” Naana closed her eyes, already feeling a headache throb behind her eyes indicating an oncoming migraine. She raised a hand to the side of her helmet, tapping the interface there, “administrate dosage of Veladiex.”

“Are you ill?”

  
  


“You are making me ill,” she grumbled.

“We have cleansed this platform thoroughly of all pathogens. It is highly unlikely we are the cause of any ailments.”

  
  


Naana growled, “But your talking can cause a most unpleasant migraine!”

  
  


Nidas fell silent then, head tilted before he moved to swing his legs onto the bunk, leaning up against the headboard, “Acknowledge. We will remain silent until you are feeling well enough to exchange data. We will take this time to continue to use the Ethernet to research organic behavior and build necessary protocol.”  
  
“You do that,” Naana grumbled, rolling over so her back was to the geth.  
  
There was no response and the geth unit was too quiet now for her liking. She kept peaking at it over her shoulder, each time, it sat in its own bunk, sprawled out in what some may see as a casual pose with the unnerving small movements that replicated life such as the rise of the chest and the minute movements of the body.

Like an organic, yet at the same time, just a tad too in sync, too perfect to not come across as slightly unnerving. Or perhaps she was just freaked out about how much detail the geth was putting into its disguise when in the past, it had been something of note that the geth weren’t know for attempts like this.

Naana let out a sigh, hunching her shoulders as she brought up her omni-tool and began to type, pausing only for a moment. She could report the geth. The ship security may come down to humor her claims of a synthetic.  
  
Maybe.

Or throw her in the brig for wasting their time.

Naana let out another sigh, bringing up her omni-tool encryption and starting to bulk it up further to pass the time. If she was lucky, the geth would get bored of following her and would find some other hapless fool to latch onto.

  
  


A lot of maybes and only hope to latch onto. The quarian bit back another sigh, realizing she was doing that far too much. Her father had often scolded her for the habit, calling it impolite despite the fact she had picked it up from him.

  
  


Time would tell she supposed and she prayed to every ancestor she had it would pan out in a future that was geth and trouble free.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a really nice review recently on this story which energized me to get back on working on it! Hopefully the second chapter is as good as the first <3


End file.
